


Symbiosis

by Dead_walking



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 06:28:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5775166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dead_walking/pseuds/Dead_walking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The resting place of one shots, drabbles, and prompt fill that are not quite long enough to stand on their own. All revolving around our favorite couple, Finn and Poe.</p><p>1. Finn needs help carrying the weight of learning his birth name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Symbiosis

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: Finn finds out information about his birth family. The First Order killed them but now know his original name. Instead of taking Poe's last name, he takes his family's instead to honor them. He's a little nervous about telling Poe. ---for somethingformyself

Finn stares at the document with something close to disbelief.

Habit has his mind reeling as the seconds turn into minutes (as years fade and disappear); a superior officer is waiting for a response and while the solider in him knows he needs to respond, he’s caught in tunnel vision, ensnared by something too small and thin to have such a big impact on his life. Every time he means to look away, to breathe, to acknowledge General Organa, the words stick in his throat until he’s sure he’s going to suffocate. 

Without thought, Finn drops the document onto the table in front of him. He should be saying something, anything: _where did you find this- are you sure – thank you_ \- but all he can do is stare at the tips of his fingers swearing they burn from the contact. 

How can two words be too much and not enough all tied together in a knot that’s expanding in his gut? Finn shifts his hips in an attempt to alleviate the pressure that’s ballooning in his core. No matter how much he manipulates his body, the pressure continues to grow, pushing against the walls of his rib-cage, deflating his lung, and clogging up his throat until he’s sure he's going to beg for everything to stop. Hunching his shoulders, Finn grabs the edge of the table and sucks in a breath that’s too ragged and shallow to provide his body the oxygen it desperately needs.

“Take your time with it,” General Organa urges, placing a solitary hand on his shoulder. Her smile is tight but authentic; a balance between joy and an understanding of the effect the information is having on him. “You’ve been creating a destiny for yourself long before you renounced the First Order, you can go on creating one without _that_ if that’s what you choose.”

A gentle squeeze is all that she means to leave him with but he calls after her. “My parents,” Finn asks, but he knows the answer; feels it in the twist of his organs. He’s not surprised then- he’s _not_ \- when she replies:

“They did everything they could to prevent the Order from taking you.” She’s gentle, but gentle doesn’t dull the ache that’s piercing itself through his chest and reaching towards his heart with a metallic grip. “I’m sorry, Finn; they’re gone.” Her own sorrow passes over her like a rain cloud. “Too many of my people are grieving over the Order’s actions; I await the day when the grieving can finally end.”

It’s just a confirmation, he tells himself; the final blow to the hope that has been flickering in his chest like a dying candle. Of course his parents are dead.This doesn’t change anything, he thinks, _it doesn’t._ Taking another deep breath, he nods and the General departs.

It’s appropriate timing really, because Finn’s legs choose that exact moment to give out from under him. The force of the fall is small compared to the force of the letter; Finn’s identity, summed up in seventeen precisely penned letters.

xxx

Finn loses track of himself, hovering just outside the orbit of his brain. There is no gravitational pull, it appears. He’s drifting and if his feet touch the ground, his oxygen supply will cut off and his lungs will collapse and he’ll die. So he floats, he floats and forgets about the earth and his name and his parents because his anchor is leading a reconnaissance mission and won’t be back for days.

In the back of his mind, Finn realizes he’s thankful for that.

xxx

When Finn can breathe again, he can think, and now that he’s thinking, there’s a mountain of things he needs to get situated in his head.

Finn thinks about his parents, even though there isn’t much to think about. When he’s ready, he may ask the General for more information – their names, a photo, their resting place. For now, for now he tries not to wonder if his mother’s eyes sparkled or if he gets his smile from his father. He especially doesn’t think about how hard they fought to keep him, or what, ultimately, ended the fight. He doesn’t need to think about how long the struggle lasted or if they suffered because he’s seen the efficiency of other squads; came face to face with it on Jakkur. No one spared a thought for the villagers before they pulled the triggers, he very much doubts anyone spared a thought for his parents.

Finn thinks about his training; how Hux and Phasma stripped him of everything so they could build him up to something stronger, something methodical and mechanic, yet still so undeniably broken. Finn often wondered if there was something wrong ( _missingoff_ ) about him that he couldn’t understand how to make his superiors proud of him. He excelled at hand to hand combat, and didn’t have a rival when it came to precision with a blaster, but he couldn’t function in the context of mission objectives. Phasma beat him down every time he went back for a squadmate during simulations and sneered at when he dragged himself up again.

 _You’ll never belong_ , Phasma told him, and she was right. No matter how many times they reconditioned him, Finn always felt the tremors of doubt rocking his capillaries. He was never good enough, strong enough, mean enough. It’s a testament to his strength that he was able to shed that skin like a snake. Part of him wanted the First Order to break him, but he didn’t have that in him, and he couldn't be more thankful when he thinks about where it's led him. 

Finn thinks about Rey and Poe and the Resistance base and realizes that he’s proud of the man he’s becoming. He’s proud that he helped Poe escape and that he ran with Rey instead of away from her. Helping General Organa, teaching her soldiers about Phasma’s training techniques, going on runs, it’s not what Finn planned for himself when he originally jumped into the TIE fighter, but he found a place here. Now that he has it, Finn doesn’t want to let it go.

xxx

It takes two days before he feels grounded enough to approach the General again.

Unlike Poe, Finn’s just becoming comfortable in her presence, and hesitates to approach her when he sees her walking around the base. Pushing away his reluctance, he falls into sync with her steps and calms as she nods in greeting.

“I wasn’t able to thank you,” he says as they pass the barracks; their pace is slow, aimless, and Finn has to stop himself from thinking she has better things to do with the little free time afforded her than talk to him. “You didn’t have to look into that – my parents, I mean, and my name.”

“I know,” the General replies, a twitch of a smile crossing her face. “I wanted to. We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you, Finn. My pilot would have been lost; who knows what would have happened with BB-8 and Rey. Looking into your heritage was the least I could do; I just wish the outcome was a more rewarding one.”

Finn shakes his head. “This is more than I ever thought I would get,” Finn admits, and it’s not a lie. While part of him always held out hope that his parents were alive, he never expected to find out the truth, let alone their names and his. At least he can move on now, can continue building on his identity instead of around it.

“You know, it’s not exactly the same set of circumstances, but I lost my parents, too.”

Finn nods, “Poe told me.”

“Of course he did,” she replies with fondness. “I was lost for a time afterwards but then I decided to use it as fuel. The fire drove me forward, kept me going when I didn’t think I had the strength to. I see the same fire burning inside you, Finn. It's up to you do decide what to do with it."

xxx

Unsurprisingly, it takes Poe seconds to piece together that something’s wrong.

Finn often finds himself admiring the pilot’s keen senses, but tonight – tonight he wishes Poe would switch off his razor sharp intuition. Poe analyses behavior patterns and spots weaknesses in others on instinct. It’s part of what makes him a great pilot, it’s also what has Finn wondering if he should return to his own bunk for the night. Finn wants to sleep on this more before he offers up the weight of the information to Poe. Finn doesn’t doubt Poe has already picked up on the pinch in his shoulder, it’s just a matter of time before he asks Finn what’s wrong. 

The thought of leaving has Finn letting out a shaky breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. Finn’s grown accustomed to doing everything alone. Even if he wanted to lean on his fellow troopers in the past, they pushed him away, called him an outsider and made sure to remind him that he was one. Now that he has people who are willing to shoulder burdens with him, Finn selfishly wants to lean on them. He wants to absorb their friendship into his pours until he can't remember what it was like to spend the majority of his life alone. 

Honing in on Finn’s discomfort, Poe leans forward on the bed, propping his hands on the mattress. “Finn, is everything okay?” 

Finn feels himself nodding but doesn’t have the strength to respond. If he starts talking about it then he won’t be able to stop and it’s not fair to unload everything on Poe after he’s just returned from a mission. Besides, even if Finn wanted to talk about it, the words are darting around his head like flies and every time he thinks to reach for one, it shoots away leaving him empty and drained. 

Without knowing what else to do, he drops himself onto the edge of the bed, feet planting firmly on the floor. “They tried to keep me.” It’s not what Finn means to say, but he feels his eyes stinging at the thought all the same. “They didn’t want to let me go.”

The mattress dips behind him and he suddenly feels Poe’s arms wrapping around him. Finn can’t help but close his eyes and lean back into the pilot. The Order is wrong, there isn’t weakness in the comfort of others, there is only strength and Finn wants to lose himself in it. 

“Who tried to keep you?” Poe asks, thumb tracing circles against Finn’s skin. “The First Order?”

Finn shakes his head. “My parents; they didn’t want to let me go. They fought for me.” Finn didn’t think about his parents often. Any thoughts he had of them were stolen by the order, replaced by the fear of reconditioning, or worse, should the need to find their identity get uncovered by Phasma. Knowing his parents loved him enough to give their lives to protect him just further assures him that he did the right thing by renouncing the order. He's continuing their legacy by fighting back and nothing is going to stop him until he bring the Order to the ground. Knowing fully well it's likely exhausted, Finn swears he can feel the warmth of a fire spreading through his chest, down the length of his arms and legs until he's blanketed in it. 

Poe moves behind him. “How do you-”

“The same way I know about this.” Gently cutting Poe off, Finn digs into his pocket until he produces a folded piece of paper, the edges worm from being opened and folded multiple times. 

Poe shifts his weight so he can place his chin on Finn’s shoulder and reaches for the document. Unfurling the paper, it takes him a second to respond: “Want am I looking at?” Poe asks; rolling his chin to better look at Finn. 

“My name,” Finn responds, “or what would have been my name. General Organa assigned someone to look into this for her. Guess it wasn’t that hard to track down once they knew which direction to look in.” Taking the paper back from Poe, Finn exhales a slow breath before tucking it safely back into his pocket. “The Order never wanted anyone to think they weren’t expendable. They literally built an entire army of people who think their worth is signified by how well they can follow an order. A large part of me used to think there was something wrong with me for not fitting in but I think I was the only one who understood I was worth more than what they thought of me. Meeting you and Rey, knowing about my parents, just proves that I was right, after all.”

Poe’s grip on Finn tightens. “You are a remarkable man, Fi-” Poe stops himself before asking: “Do you still want to call yourself that?”

Finn nods. “I wasn’t sure at first, but everything I have is tied to Finn; it’s who I am – who I was supposed to be -but the last name-” Poe has been nothing but kind, offering Finn his clothes and possessions before offering his body and mind. Finn took everything without question down to Poe’s last name. It was an easy transition but now he’s not sure how to give it back. “-my parents died trying to protect me.” Every time Finn says it, he feels the gaping wound staring to close; it’ll take time, he knows, but it’s a start. “I want to honor that.”

Poe kisses him, soft and quick. “You never cease to amaze me,” the pilot responds, then pulls Finn back until they’re both lying in bed.

Finn rests his head on Poe’s shoulder, surprised to find himself breathing a little easier. “You’re not upset?”

“Are you kidding me? This is great," Poe murmurs into the skin just behind Finn's ears. "It's a good last name, maybe you’ll let me borrow it one day.”

**Author's Note:**

> ....is it cheating that I didn't say what his name is? My anxiety can't handle the pressure of picking. Feedback is love and you can always prompt me or say hello on [tumblr](http://dead-walking.tumblr.com/)


End file.
